


Second Place

by syntheticvision



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Black female reader - Freeform, Breeding Kink, Dark Steve Rogers, F/M, Mentions of Therapy, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:20:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24952933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syntheticvision/pseuds/syntheticvision
Summary: Reader tries to forget about her past with Steve Rogers.He returns back to the present from being with Peggy to reclaim what he has lost.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 122





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StarryNighty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryNighty/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a WIP for almost a month and a half and I'm still nervous about posting it, ha. 
> 
> I'm still trying to find my footing with my writing but this is dedicated to StarryNighty because I really love their work, it's amazing.

Steve was back home.

Bruce let him collect his thoughts, his body weary with what he had accomplished and the conflict that was teetering on the edge that threatened to shatter his already fragile mental state was apparent.

He had one question to ask his friend, who remained silent at the man who had gained everything he had once lost but now stood in front of him, searching for yet another piece of his past he had lost.

“Where is she?”

Your room was empty. Steve squinted at where you used to have your things, carefully organized and mingled with his own once before. This room had been full of light before he left. Now it was bare, waiting for someone to fill it with their own decorations and memories. It was jarring to him to see the bed stripped of color and the walls empty. Steve nodded briskly, turning away from the room while Banner followed behind. There were many unspoken words that hung in the air. Steve wasn’t supposed to be back. He’d made his choice and gone back to Peggy. People moved on.

Or so Bruce had thought.

You wrapped the thick flannel blanket around you, steaming mug of coffee in hand while you went out to the swing that overlooked the ocean that you'd built yourself once you first moved out of the city. Big Sur was your favorite place in the whole world, made even better by the small house you bought when you had quit your job, cashing out half your money to put down a deposit. It was far away enough that you could forget you ever had a life on the East Coast, far away from any lingering yearnings to go back. You didn’t exist there anymore. There was no one to cause you any additional pain, no sympathy from the others who kept apologizing to you. You were free.

The first sip burned your tongue and you wrinkled your nose in response, holding the mug between your hands while the chilly air circled your shoulders, biting at the flannel that you encased yourself in. This is where you came to meditate every morning to get the lingering thoughts out of your mind. Peace and quiet.

_I am not second place._  
_I am deserving of love._

You repeated the mantra in your head as the waves crashed over the rocks. The coffee was just right when you went to take another sip, closing your eyes in bliss while you surrendered to the moment. This was your home. You were free. You were deserving of love.

Steve zipped up his bag, aware of Barton’s presence in his room.

“You shouldn’t have come back, Cap.”

Steve paused before he let out a heavy sigh. There would be explaining to do, he was sure of it. Now was not the time to give any additional details to his return.

“I needed to.”

“She won’t see you. Hell, I’m having a hard time believing you’re in front of me right now. You had everything you wanted. Why come back?”

Steve stood, throwing the bag over his shoulder.

“Not everything. I didn’t have her.”

Steve moved past Barton, his hand gripping his keys while he went down the stairs. His plan was to locate you. To see you in person and talk, to remember the softness in your eyes and the dimple in your cheek when your lips melted into a smile. He needed it, longed for it to keep him whole once more. He wanted to explain to you why he left and more importantly, why he returned.

After all, he came back for you.

The sound of a motorcycle broke your concentration. Wary of visitors, you wrapped the plaid blanket around you, holding your freshly brewed coffee in hand while you started to head back toward the house. You were aware of the dangers of being here alone but save for a wayward condor, you felt safe. This was a new noise, unfamiliar and yet familiar at the same time. You trusted your instincts and started to walk quicker.

The motorcycle came into view, the helmet that you recognized almost instantly being lifted off and placed on the handlebar. He sat across from you, blue eyes focused on you while he ran a hand through his dirty blond hair. The cup dropped to the ground from your loose fingers, coffee puddling into the wet earth. Steve sat on his bike for a moment, waiting to see if you would come to him like you used to. You froze, remembering the last time you saw him before he left. Before he completely left your life.

_I am not second place._  
_I am deserving of love._

You continued to walk toward the door, your fingers sliding into the small pocket of your jeans to hold onto the key.

Steve shouted your name, realizing you were changing direction, hopping off his bike in one fluid motion. He reached you before you could get to the door, his hands on your shoulders. You looked at the ground, refusing to match his stare. His thumbs rubbed against the soft fabric of the blanket, his breath hitching while you could feel him taking you in.

“Steve, let me go,” you requested quietly, trying to keep your arms straight. You felt like you were in a dream. One that you desperately wanted to wake up from.

“I came back for you.”

“You shouldn’t have.”

His grip increased on your shoulders and you winced.

“What are you talking about? I love you," Steve vowed.

“You don’t. Let me go.”

“Why won’t you look at me?”

You lifted your eyes to the man who had broken your heart. Sadness and pain leaked into your heart once more. The memory of his fervent speech that he would return to you once his mission was over, the final kiss where he promised to love you forever. Then there was the talk from Bucky where he had broken the news to you that Steve wasn’t coming back and was returning back to Peggy. You had allowed him into your heart and he had broken you. His hair was out of place from the helmet and you stopped yourself from trying to fix it. Even now as you were hurting, you still wanted to nurture.

“I don’t want you here, Steve.”

You couldn’t stop the tears that brimmed in your eyes, ruining your vision. You were never going to be Peggy and you never could compete. Your mind had wandered to their domestic life after you took in the news. At times it felt like your mind never stopped thinking about them. Would they be sitting down to dinner, talking about their day... did he make love to her every night? Did he tell her that he loved her before he went to sleep like he used to do with you?

With a shudder, you slipped out of his grasp. The mental anguish was becoming too much, too fast.

“Please go,” you urged.

“No. You don’t know what you mean to me.”

Your anger overflowed and you couldn't hide the tears that slid down your cheeks.

“I don’t mean anything to you! Everything you told me was a lie! I didn’t deserve that.”

“No, you didn’t,” Steve agreed. “I know that now. She’s not you.”

“Go back to her. It’s where you belong.”

You tried to push past him but he held you against his chest, forcing your chin up so that he could kiss you. His mind had snapped at your denial of his love, his blue eyes filled with anger and sadness. This was not the answer he wanted. He hadn’t expected you to push him away, not like this. You'd always been his sweet girl, ready to forgive but he had hoped a least a part of you would have wanted him back. His stare turned hard as he answered you.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Your arms bound to his chest as he held you closer. He was always stronger than you. There was no point in fighting back.

“Let me be better for you.”

“No. Whatever you’re trying to fix, you can’t repair it.”

You had gone through so much therapy. There would be more after this moment. It had not been easy letting Steve into your heart. He'd chipped away at your wall you had built up for years, never letting anyone in until he found a way. You knew love the way you'd never expected but you also had endured the pain. You needed to breathe. Maybe when this was over you could pack up your things and move somewhere else. A fresh start.

“I will.”

“You can’t!” you snapped, your voice raising in anger. “I’m trying to forget you, Steve. Every single day I get stronger and I don’t need this. I don’t need you. You abandoned me. You lied to my face about loving me when you loved her instead. I get it. I was second place. Leave me alone so I can find someone else.”

You broke into a sob, trying to push off of him as he held you tighter.

“That’s not true. And you aren’t going to ever find someone else.”

“Let me go!”

“I’m never letting you go.”

He dragged you toward the door. Your eyes widened at his resolve, your shoes slipping against the grass.

“Open the door,” he ordered.

“No.”

“I’m not asking, sweetheart. I can take the key and do it myself. Either way, we’re going inside. Together.”


	2. Chapter 2

His fingers found the key, opening the door, his arms around your waist as he took a look around. It was a small space but well organized. Much like it was when you once shared a room with him. You were a creature of habit.

“We’re going to be happy here.”

Still angry and full of adrenaline, you tried to pull away from him and he shoved you to the floor, his patience shot. You scrambled to get up as he pressed you to the ground, the blanket ripped away from your shoulders while your knees ground into the hardwood.

“Stop! Let me go!”

Steve stopped listening. All you needed was to know that he loved you. He would make you understand that you needed to be with him. Mistakes had been made but it wasn't too late to rectify the wrongs. Eventually you'd come to your senses and realize he only wanted you.

“I did love her,” Steve said quietly, ignoring your sniffle of pain while he held down your arms, his thighs up pressed up against yours. “I won’t lie to you.”

“Shut up!”

“So many years of longing and doing the right thing for other people. I deserved happiness. I earned it. After Tony died, I felt free. There were no obligations left. We'd saved the world. So I went back to my happy life. It was nice at first.”

Your tears hit the ground as he spoke. You’d met him before the world had upended completely. He hadn't even counted you as a reason to stay behind after the world had been brought back from the brink of extinction.

Maybe you weren’t second place. Peggy was first. Tony was second. Bucky was most likely third. You factored you were somewhere in between fourth and fifth and you let out a small cry of sorrow. You wanted him to leave you alone so you could be free to sink back into the darkness and despair that was creeping back up inside your mind that the therapist had tried so hard to remove. The emotional shackles of wanting someone who clearly did not choose you were strong and you whined as your brain fought with your heart.

“I should have been better for you,” Steve admitted, holding your arms across your back. “I shouldn’t have treated you the way that I did. I was wrong to lie to you. I figured you would have moved on. When I went back to Peggy, I felt like it was home. It was familiar. We could just be and that dream I had been chasing for decades was finally mine. But she wasn’t you. We were both different people and we weren't the same like before. You were all I could think about.”

He threaded his fingers in your hair and you attempted to pull away but it was too late, your chin forced forward as he applied pressure.

“I hate you,” you breathed, your cheeks warm with determination. “I don’t want you, Steve. I moved on.”

He shushed you as he grabbed a fistful of your curls, pulling you up from the ground as tears dripped down your cheeks. It didn't matter that Peggy wasn't you. He'd left you and every little dream, fascination and domestic scene you had wished once upon a time had been ripped away. There was no future with Steve. He had made his choice.

“Then why are you crying?”

“Let me go,” you demanded weakly, your lips trembling while he pressed his face against your hair. “You never loved me.”

“I do.”

“I don’t want your love.”

“Stop lying!” he roared, pushing you back down to the ground. “You ran away from everything. Ran away from _me_. We'll be happy. You'll see.”

“No, we won’t. I hate you, Steve! I hate you!”

There was a soft click and a pinch on your skin, enough to make you realize something was not right and then the darkness surrounded you.

When you came to, you were on your bed, curled into a ball under a blanket. The room was still spinning and you squeezed your eyes shut to try to get your bearings back. You couldn’t remember how you ended up in your bed but you remembered Steve. You lifted the blanket slowly, your arms weak while you pushed it down past your hips. Swinging your legs over the side of the bed was a chore. Once you stood, you hold onto the wall for balance as the room began to come into focus.

The door opened and Steve stood there, a plate in his hand while he furrowed his brow.

“What are you doing up?”

“Go away,” you murmured, your words slurring.

“Sweetheart, you have to get back into bed. You could fall.”

You pressed your back against the wall as he placed the plate of food on the nightstand, picking you up with ease and placing you back into bed, your head propped up on the pillows. Your arms felt like lead. There was no fighting back.

“You’ve been out for hours. You need to eat something.”

Food was not on your mind. He held out a forkful of mashed potatoes and you turned away from him, beginning to cry.

“I know this isn’t easy but the sooner you stop fighting, the sooner we can fix us.”

He brought your face to his with a simple guidance of his hand. His blue eyes were glassy with emotion.

“I’m sorry I hurt you. I want you to forgive me.”

He wouldn’t let you turn away and you closed your eyes instead, tears brimming at your lash line.

“I’m going to take care of you the way I had promised.”

“Leave me alone,” you protested, trying to push him away with your feeble hands. "What did you do to me?

He pulled you into his arms, your head tucked under his chin while his grip was like a vice. It was meant to keep you submissive like he knew you always were.

“A mild sedative to keep you calm. Stop fighting me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You already have," you replied bitterly.

“Do you need more medication?”

You stilled in his arms and shook your head slowly. You knew you would be out cold once again, reliving the same scene that you were right now. There was a pause and his lips brushed against the top of your head.

“That’s what I thought. Good girl.”

He reached for the plate with one hand, the other hand still keeping you close while he held out the fork.

“Open up for me.”

You opened your mouth and accepted his offering, chewing mechanically while he visibly relaxed, his grip on you easing slowly. If you could force yourself to eat, perhaps he would leave you alone for a while.

"I'm sorry," he apologized once more, smoothing down your hair gently. "We just need time."

Time would heal you. That much you knew for certain. But you wouldn't let him into your heart. You'd learned a valuable lesson and one you would not be forgetting anytime soon.

"I'm full," you lied, watching him place the plate back onto the nightstand with a defeated sigh.

"We'll try again tomorrow."

Your nightmares had returned, sorrow permeating every memory that had played inside your head while you fought in your sleep. Steve had held you close, your back against his chest as his fingers slid between the valley of your breasts.

"I'm here," he soothed, his voice breaking your thoughts. "It's okay."

His arm was locked over yours as you attempted to move. Once upon a time, this is how you used to wake up, his chin atop your head, the need to protect you overwhelming even in his sleep. You protested against the stifling of your movement and he relented. You got to your feet slowly, careful to make eye contact as you told your next lie.

"I'm just going to the bathroom," you promised. "I'll be right back."

You slipped your phone into the sleeve of your shirt after picking it up quickly from the ground as you walked slowly into the bathroom, locking the door behind you with a soft click. You silenced your phone, sitting on the lip of the bathtub while you figured out your plan. The moon shone through the closed window, barely large enough for you to escape. There wasn't enough time. You typed out a message and turned on the faucet, hoping it would draw away the attention of you inching the window open. With a little pressure, you pushed the screen out. Though it had only been mere minutes, it had felt like hours as you took one last look at the locked door and gripped the window, your palms sinking into the prickly stucco as your legs followed suit.

Your knees hit the soft ground before you pulled yourself up. Behind you the bathroom door broke open but you ran toward the safety of the trees, giving yourself a head start. Your bare feet were no match for the upended ground but you continued forward, refusing to stop. The phone vibrated in your hand as you ran, most likely a response to the message you'd sent earlier. There was no time to stop and read the answer from your plea for help. You heard his footsteps and your name being called, his voice breaking like a wounded animal. There was solace in hiding behind a tree as twigs and dry leaves snapped and crunched over his shoes.

"Don't do this," Steve warned. "I don't want to hurt you."

His voice continued past you but you knew it was risky to move. His eyes and ears were enhanced and any movement from you would draw him straight to you. His voice began to fade and you waited, cautiously, before you moved an inch. You could swear your heartbeat was loud enough for him to hear before you turned and ran in the opposite direction. Out of nowhere, you were grabbed from behind, a large hand closed over your mouth to muffle a scream before you were pushed to the ground, sprawled out in front of him. You tried to crawl away but Steve held you down by your neck, your face pressed into the cold ground.

"I wanted to talk but apparently you need to be shown," Steve growled against your ear.

Your shorts and underwear were ripped down to your knees, the sound of his belt and zipper clinking as you realized what was happening. This wasn't the Steve you knew.

"No," you sobbed. "Stop."

"I came back for you and all you do is run from me. No more."

There wasn't time for you to prepare for what happened next. He pushed into you, a sob catching in your throat in surprise as he still held you down. Your cunt stung with the lack of preparation and you squeezed your eyes shut as he stilled inside you.

"I know your body," Steve reminded you, your chest rising and falling with every deep breath you tried to take. "You may want to deny me but your body won't."

His movements were slow and shallow, your fingers gripped into fists while you tried to block him out.

"So fucking tight. You can't ever deny me, can you sweetheart?"

Your body responded in kind, the pressure building between your legs as he pounded harder and faster into you. You stifled a moan, from the pain or the pleasure you weren't sure of which, as his breath warmed your back.

"All I need is you. You forgive me, don't you?"

Your shoulders were pressed into the ground, his thrusts meant to control you while he waited for his answer.

"Y-yes," you cried out, hoping he would grant you a reprieve. "I forgive you."

"We'll be a family, won't we?"

"No!" you squeaked, his hips slapping against your ass. "Steve, no!"

"Yes," he breathed against your ear as you felt him cum, warmth spreading inside you. "The three of us. One happy family."

The flannel blanket was still draped across your shoulders as you drank the last of your tea, swinging slowly as the breeze mingled with the salty ocean air lifted your hair. This was still your solitude.

Heading back toward the house was more of a chore, your steps slower but still purposeful. There was a lot to do inside this space. You outlined ideas for a new kitchen and the new furniture had been delivered for the living room, including new bookcases for the all the books that had sat in piles around the house. There was a space for everything now. You'd grown accustomed to keeping yourself busy.

You rounded the corner, the sound of a drill catching your attention. Bolts and screws surrounded the floor, among boxes of items that needed to be built. This particular project was finished, the final touches an extra once-over by careful eyes that caught yours. The crib was a light gray, the mattress leaning up against the rocking chair in the corner of the room. It was beginning to look like a nursery.

You looked down at your belly, unable to see your feet. The family Steve had desperately wanted was almost here. Every day was a check off the calendar, leading up to the due date. Steve had been right. The sooner you stopped fighting him, the better life had become, the pain that you had held onto so tightly a faded memory. It was much easier this way.

At the sight of you, he didn't hesitate to drop his tools, his lips pressed against yours while he cradled your bump.

"You both are all I need," Steve promised.

You needed to believe him. After all, you were worthy of love.


End file.
